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Full text of "A souvenir : incidents, experiences and reflections"

A SOUVENIR 



INCIDENTS, EXPERIENCES 
AND REFLECTIONS 

BY 

MARTHA A. JOHN. 



"He hath showed thee, O, Man, what is good; and what 
doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to 
love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God ?" Micah. 
chap, vi, verse viii. 



STERLING GAZETTE PRINT. 

STERLING, ILL. 
1902-3. 




Q<J;Ujg:^zd^*^, 



FATHER. 

Exalted lives have oft been lived, 
And beloved (in diverj^ing circles 

known) 
For godly works in which their lives 
had grown 
But this dear one was all our own, 

In oar wor!d 

Ours, a wise and true protectoc. 
Looked up to ai'oundthe family hearth, 
A counselor of inestimable worth — 

A strenp-th to any home on Earth — 
A iiood latherl 

He chose the Christian's earnest 
ways: 
And his example plead unerringly, 
''Let othei-s go the way which they 

may see 
But as for my house, and for me, 

We'll serve the Lord." 




^^^o/volK ^.JwUl, 



MOTHER. 

With contented trust— unusual sweet- 
ness — 

Kindest deeds along her path 
Our precious mocher has lain down 

Her time-worn staffi 
Now all care with us, and grief severest 

We must meet alone! 
Rest for the weary, mother dearest. 

Where pain's unknown. 
In reflection, like a panorama 

(We gaze through blind ng tears) 
Comes this record now unfolding. 

Of ninety yearsi 
Much in life that seemeth dreariest 

riecurreth o'er and o'er 
But thy peace and joy, mother dearest 

Are forever morel 
Ah we miss and need thy tender touches 

On oui- silvering hair, 
And in the plans of daily life, we miss 

Thee everywhere! 
True and thoughtful friends, the very 
nearest 

We cherish tenderly, 
Yet mother, oh our mother dearest 

None can be like thee! 



Spring. 

Let pen? catch now the melody 

Of treasured words wu'd sino', 
Since out upon the changing' soa 

Of time, behold the Spring-; 
What buds keep cominfr in her train 

To burst in pink and green: 
She brings such robes for hill and plain 

Unknown in Winter's sheen: 
There's rose and gold and purple bright 

Quivering o'er the sky-- 
A softer touch to every light 

That's streaming- from on high: 
The bluejays in their winter nests 

Have heard the distant call — 
Preparing now to meet, the guests 

Of gladnes*, one and all. 
The loved and longed for angel Spring 

Is moving hitherwardi 
Then in the gladsome welcoming 

Let there go thitherward 
Like incense from the altar rising- 
Like sweetness from the bud 
Deeds of goodness, kind surprising 

And praises unto God! 

Jane Grey Swisshelm. 

Jane Grey Swisshelm was born in 
1815 in Pennsylvania. She was one of 
the earliest and a most ardent aboli- 
tionist. The first abolition meeting 
ever held in Alleghany county, Pa. was 
held under the famous sycamore tree 
on her place. Charles Sumner attend- 
ed that meeting. She was a journal- 
ist of ability, and a leader in the 
passage of the Homestead law in the 
western states. She died in 18.'<4 at 
her old home, Swissvale, in Alleghany 
county, Pennsylvania. 
An unconquerable cbri-^tian spirit 

With tenderness that birthright gave 
Was born when Nature crowned with 
vital life 

This champion for the slave. 
This philanthropist and able leader 

Where far too few with courage 
standi 
But now her powerful pen has fallen 

From an untiring hand I 

A rambler strayed through tang'ed 
seclusions 
Searching for themes and relics rare 
About her far-famed Swissvale home. 
He found 
Ruins and strangers there! 



He found the relics— the "sunlighted 
den". 

Even the sylvan seat, he found 
Fronting meadows and amphitheaters 

Of distant hills beyond. 

But ail the beautiful born in Swissvale 

Died soul and life with its queen! 
And what though the urchins of a 
truckman 
Deface and mar the scene — 
What though her shrubbery and 
trailing vines 
Are dying out, here and there. 
And vvornout buildings are tumbling 
down, 
She'll ne'er awake to care! 

Her work, her holy mission is finished 

Which helped so much to clear the 
way 
That a race in bondage might step 
forward 

That they might all be free! 
It is meet that this Scriptural injunc- 
tion 

Is carved upon her granite slab— 
"Speak unto the children of Israel 

(So beautifully sad) 
Speak unto the children of Isrctel 

That they may go forward" it reads! 
O, that all may go forward and upward 

Her great example pleads. 

Summer. 

Resting- here in blissfulness 

Amidst the June-time showers 
Inhaling honied fragrance 

Flung fr )m opening flowers — 
From blossoms in the grain fields. 

And spicy bloom from trees, 
We linger as worshipers 

Enwrapped in mysteries. 
We breathe the sweet elixir 

Of Summer's ble-^sed reign, 
And through a slumberous sweetness, 

And gladness — almost pain 
We inhale the delicate 

And unutterable love — 
The exhilerating freshness 

Sent from field and grove. 
Opening corols tremble 

In a shower bath like dew: 
We plu!k them in their beauty. 

Peerless white and peerless blue. 
Each adding to a latent charm 

Breaking into new delight. 
Flooding everv thinking mind 



With a holier lig-ht. 
Human minds have failed to measure 

Id its fullness, this! 
A harmony of anthems, 

An essence draught of bliss, 
Somewhat unknown in language 

And all untouched by hand 
Yet the soul — the silent spirit 

Can understand! 

Summer Evening 
Thoughts. 

Listening to the warbling birds 
And pleasant sigh of breeze 

Ascribing praises, (not in words) 
Come hither thoughts like these 

As blessings for this evening hour — 

And Rast, O, in welcome power, 

Tne sultry day with leisure ride. 

And picnic in the grove 
Has passed, with all its loads beside— 

Its idlings and its love- 
Its hopes, its re^ts. and dreams of the 

young. 
Sweet as carols in vespers sung! 

All's over nowl And in the charm 

That twilight hours enfold, 
Encircling the quiet farm 

In eve's magnetic hold, 
(A deepin;^ shade and bird's farewell) 
All touch the pen with restless spell. 

A mellow pacing in the lanes, 

Of homeward marching kine 
Prefigures of the life that reigns 

Where thrift and peace entwine: 
And whistling at his evening chores 
The boy shuts up the great barn doors. 
The milk is strained in ample cans— 

In cool sweet cellars set, 
And all the work fur weary hands 

Let us at last forget, 
And rise to where the spirit sees 
A way through unsealed mysteriesi 

Prom sunline^, in golden tints and red 

Touching! zenith far 
Come whispers (though a word's not 
said) 
Of majesty and powerl 
And leaflets on the drooping limbs 
Seem hushed in service— stirred in 
hymnsi 

The birds have ceased their warbles 
now, 
The sky is set with stais. 



And slumber stealing o'er each brow 

Like night on silent hours: 
And night and sleep a welcome guest, 
Call the mind and pea to rest. 

Echoes From Kansas 

The following lines are founded 
upon an incident which occurred dur- 
ing the excitement at the time when 
the new star for Kansas was pi'oposed 
to be placed upon the "Star Spangled 
Banner." The people of the south re- 
solved that the new state should come 
into the Union as a slave state, while 
the people of the north decreed that it 
should be p edged to Freedom. 

Across the flower-decked prairies 

Of wild though verdant lands 
Along the Osage and Neosho 

And Kansas river sands — 
Crept the blossom-scented breezes- 
Came down the sunlight beams 
Illuming aland of promise 

In bold explorers dreams'. 
We were roaming then (mere children) 

Round homes afar away 
Unknowing there should rise right there 

A fratricidal fray 
That would unrivet bands that bound 

A weak opjiressed race. 
And wasn from off our country's flag 

Its nat onal disgracel 
Step after step, and year by year 

Our country's pulse beat fast 
Till scarce a hillside home, but heard 

The echoes as they passed. 
Then came one morn in autumn 

In an Ohio town 
When a train upon its eastern run 

Had turned its breakers down. 
The steaming, seething engine seemed 

Impatient to move on; 
Coaches were rilled with passengers — 

The busy day begun. 
Great political excitements 

Were stirring- anxious souls — 
Men discussed the situations 

Disturbing Freedom's polls — 
Those efforts through fraud and riot 

To plant on Kansas plains 
A "peculiar institution" 

To curse where'er it reigns! 
Voters were weighing seriously 

These themes of life or death; 
Women too wer-5 listening gravely 

Almost with bated breath 
When the engine's whistle sounded 



Its searehinof. belching blast, 
And hasting brakemen slammed tlie 
doors 

As in and out they passed. 
Two active porters climbed the steps. 

Bearing most tenderly 
A feeble mother, weak with years — 

Long life's infirmityl 
They bore her to a rear-car. 

Each seeming want supplied: 
A boy observing every movement 

Kept closely by her side. 
Watching v/ith keen solicitude 

In filial noble ways- 
Told their pathetic history 

Unmioding blame or praise. 
This was his father's loving mother — 

Mother with palsied hand 
Lately come from the Scottish hi Is — 

Their ancestral land — 
Came to dwell among her children. 

And die among her own. 
Passing for this holy purpose 

Through all but death alone! 
With joyous tears, they welcome her 

Into their loving arms — 
Protecting love should fondly g'uard 

From all external harms. 
Her queer fancies were respected — 

Her wishes great and small: 
The dear mother should be honored 

And gratified in ail. 
They gave her an easy carriage 

With velvet cushions lined. 
And two negro maiden servants 

Obedient aod kind 
Yet she drooped in p inful sadn»^ss 

And soon there crossed her miud 
A sorb of craze unaccountable- 
Strange and undefined! 
She chose at last the coarsest food 

Her sustenance, dav by day, 
And refused the aid of servants 

Almost in every way. 
Vainly her children plead with her — 

Entreaty all in vacin — 
And that weary voyage, she plead 

To travel back again! 
"And she must gar^g back to Scotlana 

(The little hero said) 
My father would na gang u'i her 

So I have come instead." 
That which just had neld the people 

With a thrill of interest 
In far off Kansas, found diversion 

Here—ihe gravest, tenderest! 
Helpless age appealing mutely 
Unto the hearts of those 



Who were watching slow developments 

So suddenly disclosed. 
The scene was sad and puzzling 

And hard for men to read; 
'•Was there my boy. some nidden cause 

Of selfishness or greed — 
Some trifling, or hapless secret — 

Some individual lack 
To drive grandma from her kindred 

This tedious journey back?" 
"None (the earnest grandson answered 

In calm straightforward tones) 
Only she could na breathe for Slavery 

She said." (Its sigbs and wrongs!) 
"She said she could na die in peace 

For bluid on father's soul." 
Eyes were opened, the truth unveil-d 

And O, so beautiful. 
They seemingly had gazed upon 

A poor demented brow: 
But suddenly as if translated, 

A very angel now! 

Instead of palsied lunacy 

In tenement of clay 
Behold a grand heroic mind 

Unclouded as the day. 
She could net breathe for Slavery 

Where idle comfort lolls, 
Nor bear that deep corroding sin 

Upon her children's souls! 
She w-ould not lend one finger's aid 

Her fellow man to blight: 
All the children of Our Father— God 

Were precious in her sight! 
She'd be buried in the kirkyard 

Among unsullied graves, 
But not in a land that licenses 

A bartering in slaves!! 
Over thy fair praries, Kansas 

Let soft vespers sweep: 
No human chattel is there enchained— 

No slave is there to weep! 
O, sweet homes in Kansas - historic 
land 

Rising prosperously in view. 
May never a wrong that stains a state 

Poison the air that kisses you! 

Around the Evening Lamp 

A farmer's home called our Union 
there. 
To sew for abandoned babes in a Mis- 
sion's care — 
To work for helpless waifs in deed and 
thought: 
Deep interest was to this banquet- 
brough 



Matrons with little ones amidst us trod 
And in sympathy, their own seemed wv-cO^jU-- 
to God! 
We knew of babes clothed in rag's — 
sadly knew. 
And garments now from busy fingers 
flew; 
All striving-— most substantially to 
bless — 
To fling a mite, on the sea of Help- 
fulness! 

One mother called to mind, the Winter 
time, 
The dreariest, despite disj^lays sub- 
lime. 
And never welcome as Summer, or the 
Spring, 
Nor as Autumn, with her leaves in 
coloring. 
Could there be a difl'erence, in 
thoughts like these? 
Yet one, who, (with a child upon her 
knees) 
Paused a moment, then said "I love 
Winter.' ' — See 
That meant better than times for 
bird oi- beel 
Mentally we saw pictures of her home 
In winter evenings, where there may 
not come 
Disturbances; lamps alight: blinds 
drawn down. 
All confidence true— loje the bright- 
est crowul 
We seemed to feel in waves, ' invisible, 
a truth 
In sympathy with her, and fleeting- 
youth — 
Sweet congenial thoughts, and restful 
moods 
Dear perhaps as wand 'ring in a 
summer woods! 
Yes, tonight, I love the Wirter too 
from burden freed: 
Then let's light our evening lamps, 
and settle down to read. 

Wild Violets. 

Watching for violets. We love '.hem — 

Their wonderful hues — 
Their freshness, sweetness and beauty 

In purple and blues: 
We find them in hedges' seclusions 

Garnering their own 
Extract from sunbeams, whose intru- 
sions 

Glint the osage throne. 



It is the freshest blossom of the morn. 

Though richer "cloth of gold" 
In colors wondrously inbora 

Doth pansy's petals hold. 
But Violet! Violet! in thy meekness 

Kvolve thy lessons grand 
Since thy existence and thy sweetness 

Touch the Builder's Hand! 

To us returns the old enchantment. 

Now through memory traced, 
When first an idle wand'ring footprint 

Tracked the unplowed waste — 
When first we marked the stirring 
wonders 

Beyond description's pen — 
The beauty of this newland's splendors 

Ic Nature's untouched reign. 

We saw the graceful deer — unwary 

In their pastures green 
Galloping over widths of prairie 
As king in right, or queen, 
Until the plowmen came; beholding 

Their new wrought charms — 
The wild blown meadows, slowly mold- 
ing 

Into fruitful farms. 

So now like mystic spell uprisen. 

Seem these violets drest 
With power, calling back a vision 

From the long-gone past! 
We pluck a? then our choice selections 

From widely scattered flowers; 
Tenderly flow the recollections 

Of those precious hours — 

Too sweet for obliv ion — for consignmen t 

Where coarser moments sleep! 
An opening blossom breathes refine- 
ment — 
. A bursting bud can speak- 
er loueh the heart with abounding 
thoughts 
Not selfishly our own! 
O. we're thankful for the violets — 
For all the joy they're shown. 

Pastoral 

My friends and I, on a quiet morning-- 
Following the vernal season's dawn- 
ing. 
Drove out to greet Spring's angels 
flinging 
Violas round, and setting birds to 
singing — 
Calling softly up from the southland 
fair 
The gentlest, freshest breath of air. 



These were hours of leisure sweet, 
and we 
Came out to prize what'er there was 
to see, 
Even the herdman's lloek, fat and sleek 
Browsing in peace along- the winding 
creek 
Where the sward is green, seems 
velvety green 
In its first new crop to tinge the scene. 

And as we drank these living visions 
in. 
We called to mind once more a far 
off scene — 
The semblance of a thoughtful shepherd 
lad, 
In the famous coat of many colors 
clad, 
And wandering alone in Sheckhem's 
field 
In pastures worn — perhaps untilled. 

He strode trustfully on to an uncon- 
scious fate — 
This great young dreamer, from a 
low estate 
While a preparing Hand in holy grace 
Led him step by step to his honored 
place, 
Impressing us that through w07-('i alone 
Are the chosen of Jehovah known. 

Sing birds among these Whiteside 
county farms; 
These meadow lands are dressed in 
vernal charms. 
The willows' and maples' twigs are all 
alive 
With sweet suggestions for our 
splendid drive: 
Sing birds, bloom plants: we see and 
hear and feel 
A share of what these all reveal. 

A Drive to Town 

Ijeisurely we drove away 
Through the autumn scenes of a rest- 
ful day 
Taking the child from his iuippy play 

To a town by the river. 

Slowly jogged our beast along — 
(Sloiv to be sure, but physically strong) 

Thi'ough lanes where the wild bird 
learned its song 
Of praise unto the Giver! 

Between hedgerows, g-reen with 
leaves 



Our road-way lay, and amongst the 

trees 
Where the turtle dove in sadness 

grieves 
Anear her guarded nest. 

We passed vervains dressed in blue 
And purple asters starring miles of 

view— 
Blossoms which my little comrade 
knew — 
A roadside gaily dresV. 

All so fresh and newly ma-^e. 
So perfect in every tint arrayed: 
"Who sowed them (the darling baby 
said) 

This one, and this and that?" 

Who sowed them? my own thoughts 
rise, 
Except the Hand that planned the 

arching skies 
And built the world wath our destinies 
Beyond our divining— 

That gave unto clay, a soul 
To read and interpret the beautiful. 
And keep unmarred, as priceless jeAvel 

The casket ever shining. 

We entered the market town 
Where the road-way flowers are trod- 
den down 
That sometimes uplift a puny crown — 

A weak — a brief expansion! 

We noticed hurrying feet 
Crowding along the busy market street 
To bustling shops, stores, or home re- 
treat. 

Be it cot or mansion. 

All these varied scenes among. 
The boy keeps saying as we drive along 
"Tell me auntie, where these boys be- 
long 

Anil Whither are they going?" 

My own thoughts keep asking too. 
Do they all belong to the just and true 
In the varied lines Avhich they pursue— 

Their deeds— their sowing? 

Here are crowded marts, with men 
Handling O. thousands of bushels of 

grain 
Gathered from the country — hill and 
plain 
In careful keeping: 

Merchants with useful wares 
All seemingly absorbed in business 
cares 



To which farm and town alike are heirs 
In continual meeting — 

Meetincr on one common plain 
To which the high and low must all 

attain, 
The human need of fruit and grain 

That every farm's displaying. 

O, back again from city noise — 
Back to the quiet home my heart 

enjoys: 
The baby picks up his laid down toys 

And he resumes his playing'. 

1882. 

A Triiobite 

An honest visitor 
Eirnestly arou ed —awakened, sat 
In a Relic Gather's cabinet; 

And he carefully took 
And held a seeming pebble to the 

light: 
"O that is nothing but a triiobite 

Struck from a common rock 

(Said the Relic Gatherer) 
But here is a jewel of ancient art, 
Whose strange history let me im- 
part— 

A worthy theme forthoughtl 
See, it is a ring of solid gold, 
Designed in figures curious, old, 

And mark, how finely wroughtl 

It is no modern jewel — 
'Twas stripped from the finger of one, 

who 
For seventeen long centuries through 

In buried palace sat 
At rest, in costly embellished room 
That proved, alas! the pitiful tomb 

Of the desolate I 

It was brought from Pompeii! 
Examine it well; pause and think: 
What terror for those upon the brink 

Of that awful hour. 
When helpless, trembling, pale with 

fear 
They beheld the molten lava near 

In ruthless powerl 

Like feathers in the blast 

Were poor man's frail ett'orts feebly 
plied; 

Terrific quakes of the Earth replied, 
The molten stream rolled in! 

The wondrous city was buried deep 

la undisturbed— in dreamless sleep- 
Its wisdom and its sin! 



Seventeen hundred years! 
The curious eyes of this late day 
Now pry into the passed away, 

Unveiling — bringing forth. 
Thoughtfully we gaze on solemn forms 
Whose ears have long unheard the 
storms 

That rock and stir the earth! 

Weariest thou of this? 
Then come hither into this hall, 
View stranger relic, surpassing all 

We have yet displayed; 
Prepare for wonder! let nerves be 

calmed; 
A human mummy: preserved— embalm- 
ed 
In Egypt's catacomb laid! 

Unfold these wrappings; lo 
These feet perhaps trod hillsides green 
While yet the holy Nazarene 

In vocal accents taught; 
While Jerus'^lem was yet in youth 
Afraid to hear the living truth 

That dieth not!" 

The trembling answer came 
•'But give, give me, pray another sight 
Of that seeming stone —that triiobite 

Let us gaze on it; 

Dear friend, deem me not of careless 
mind. 
Nor believe alas, that I am blind 

In wonder's cabinet! 

But that remoter era!! 
Bring me relics from the first creation 
Wrung out from earth's deep founda- 
tion 

Ere was formed a plan 
Of the beautiful, fit dwelling place 
Upon this wide world's ungainly face 

For mortal man. 

'•Nothing but a triiobite!!" 
Why, before Pompeii's streets were 

laid — 
Long before the catacombs were made 

This relic, wasl 
The Ikiilder of the world was there 
And spread his footprints everywhere, 

And wrote his laws! 

This petrified form — 
These little fossils— granite blocks 
Struck from the deep foundation rocks 

By quarry-men's sledge 
Are very old! no reckoning true 
Can ever guide an idea to 

Their marvelous age! 

1852. 



In Autumn 

We walk abroad in sheltered ways 

To breathe the spirit of these days — 
To understand the noiseless strokes 

That mark our maples and our oaks, 
That glint with gold where hickory 
reigns 

And crimson all the sumac lanes. 
Welcome Autumn, with unspent tears 

Locked somewhere in thy marching 
years, 
Imparting sadness to the land and air 

Which all our spirits learn to wear I 

But new-born life of winter rye 

Just catching now the delighted eye, 
Sends out its freshness far and near 

With beauty for the waning year: 
While cornfields gray, perhaps our 
pride, 

Outspread across this country wide 
Are wonderful in charms and cheers 

In rustling, drooping hursting earsi 
And how they strike with tones of song 

Every breeze that floats along. 

The corn squirrel in fur covering 

Which in the early days of Spring 
Dug the corn from many a hill 

Is stealing from the farmer still: 
But no one minds him now, for see 

There is plenty for such rogues as 
he— 
And some to spare, now and then — 

Luscious meals for the prairie hen. 
And jay and quail (on plenty's plains) 

That gather up the wasting grains! 

Seldom were gems on Autumn's brow. 

Richer than her gifts are now; 
Orchards outdo in offering 

Their gracious promise of the spring. 
Strewing in profusion sweet 

A great abundance at our feet: 
And acorns in their coats of brown 

In quiet groves are rattling down: 
Each insect by the season stirred 

Is vying with the happy bird. 

All nature rich in Heaven's care 

Is grander in this bracing air: 
All kingdoms of their treasures give 

That needy child of earth may live: 
Changing tints for the eye to see, 

And nil this good for such us we! 
O, in the spirit's strange unrest. 

Let this gladness be expressed. 
Let tongues reveal the free-gift sight — 

And we too take our pens and write I 



We strive to paint on humble scrolls 

Of worship that arrests our souls 
Of beams, from which the cloud is 
brushed 

Of nature with the tumult hushed — 
Of goodness on our ])athway shed. 

Of blessings on the reverent headi 
O, how can heart refuse its praise 

How rest we thus in careless ways 
In scenes of gladness -rural grace 

In land of plenty, and in peace? 

188;{. 

Autumn Leaves 

Sweet voiced pedestrians 

Pass up the roadside street, 
Picking here and there a wondrous leaf 

That flutters to their feet. 

Blossom time is over 

The scene around is new 
Brilliant tintings, in changing color 

Are lifted to their view. 

Autumn and children meet — 

Children in their Spring, 
B rushing from their paths, with little 
feet 

A leafy carpeting I 

Springtime in their lives 

But Autumn in the year! 
And these pictures which this one day 
gives 

Are adding to its cheer. 

Friends' Meeting House 

(At Shamokin, Pa.) 

We are trudging up a rocky path just 
now — 
(In remeniscent mood) 
A granite path that leads us on and 
through 
A quiet hillside w^ood. 
We move along in restful calm content, 

And kneeling, scrape aside 
Brown leaves, dead and brittle, to find 
a plant 
To us "out west" denied. 
It is the checker berry — "winter 
green" 
Pressed closely to the ground. 
And is neglected never when it's seen 

In haunts where it is found. 
O. interesting path — at the summit 
stands — 
For many years has stood 
The unpretending Meetmg House of 
Friends 



Anear the shady wood. 
Evenings alone in the twilight hour 

(The day's deep thinking time) 
I return to those grounds, and to our 

Old Home (in mind) ytt 7nme. 

Benevolence 

Like, wnth holy oil annointed, 

Soothing human grief. 
Moves the hand that's God-appointed 

In benevolent relief. 

And wonderful, that to the giver 

The richest blessings flow, 
Uplifting helper and receiver 

In the special overflow 

Of human kindness —tenderness — 

The round of greed, above; 
Portraying in truth, a kinship with 

Our Savior's love. 

Giving Thanks 

Now therefore uur God we thank 
thee, and praise thy glorious name. 
I Uarouicles, chap. 29, verse 13. 
A devoted, discouraged mother 

In cheer (all outward) led 
A little group of hungry children 

Half supperless, to bed I 

She lingered there beside her darlings. 

With tears kept bravely down - 
Told them of other needy children 

(More wretched than her own) 

Sleeping beneath some sheltering door- 
way 
Or in some wind-swept hall, 
Clad too thin for the chilly weather, 
With no supper at aU\ 

Thus her listening group, grew thank- 
ful 

For blessings meager -sweetl 
Oh amidst the world's thanksgivings 

Patnos and praises meet. 

The Snow Finch 

Ah, the air is growing colder - 

Is full of gloomy haze: 
A threat of storm is in the sky, 

Complaint on ev'ry breeze; 
And look for snow, in answer 

Unto the g'lory call; 
Perhaps in early evening 

The soft white clouds will fall. 



The finches flew in flocks to-day 

(With fluttering notes of glee) 
Like raindrops hailing through the 
hedge. 

Or windstorm in the tree, 
And singing (was it?) through tlie air 

The notes their needs invite. 
Hearing perhaps in upper waves 

The storm reserved for night! 

For nightl And with gathering dark- 
ness 

What messages float by 
With the whistling boreal blast 

In melancholy cryl 
Are all the creatures in our caring" 

In pity sheltered warm? 
Home fowls, kine, and faithful Dick, 

For hear the fretting storm! 

How it grumbles o'er the prairies. 

And moans around the door: 
Come closer to the stove, sweet ones 

While lonely night winds roar. 
Where now is the winsome snowbird — 

Where rests his little wing? 
Dear child, our Father careth 

For the little trusting thing'. 

The Closing Year 

Let us not be as the unthankful are 

Who give no praise! 
We are bidding adieu to the gi'and Old 

Year 
That is passing away in the Winter 

drear! 

But see, there are gai'lands around his 

bier 
For the crowning of the worthy, and 

hear 
What he says. 

He is leaving to the faithful, a memory 

Of things well done; 
A wonderful content for spirits pure — 
For hearts that are rich in joj's that 

endure: 
O, life, built on the rock that stands 

secure 
With a rent, unknown to the evil-doer — 

This heritage won. 

He is leaving abuodance throughout 

our land 
And peace on these shores! 
His harvests waved in the freshness of 

light — 

Were wreathed in promises hopefully 

bright — 
They yielded (with Industry ordered 

aright) 

The garners of treasure, beautiful sight 
In bountiful stores! 



His orchards on prairie and hillside 
slopes 
Bent with blessino's down: 

While the gladdening and the chang- 
ing view 

With pencilings of sunshine streaming 
throufh 

Gave visions of grandeur, and sweet 
and new, 

Fruit tinted and glinted with golden 
hue 
And russet and brown. 

His wild plants too that were scattered 

abroad 
In the hedge and the nook 
Kept beckoning lovers out in the breeze 
Throu 'h landscapes fair with flowers 

and trees — 
With sweets for more than the birds 

and the bees: 
What lessons were studied and read 

from these 
In nature's book. 

Then let us not go up as the thankless 
do 
To the New Year's morn! 

There are deeds to do. Each act up- 
raises, 

Or takes from the soul its noblest 
graces; 

Accords the heart to its highest praises 

Or drowns it deep in the world's wide 
mazes 
Poor, foi'lorni 

Then as the Old Year glides under the 

stars — 
Out at the western door. 
And the New comes in from the realms 

of rest — 
Comes in thiough tears of the morning 

mist. 
Let us. Jet US see that our lives be blest 
With the joy and peace that will last 

and last 
Foreverinorel 

A Winter Storm 

Last nisrht in fitful wakeful rest 

We listened to the house dog's cries. 

The wind kept wailing from the west 
In sullen sobs and sighs. 

But morning breaks with clouds of 
snow 
Swirling and sweeping with the 
breeze. 
The weather gauge is falling low- 
Descending bv degrees. 



All Nature feels the sudden change - 

The winter's natural call 
Screaming over our ])rairie plains 

In breathings masterful. 

Let si)arrows roost in barns to-night 
Thoughtless boys at your common 
chores: 

They come with chirps in half affright 
Beliind the banging doors. 

Learn by our own nepd of Higher Care! 

Let your protecting hands extend 
In nerciful kindness everywhere 

Where weakness needs a friend. 



The Wild Hen 

A vernal morning is gladly breaking 

la mellow sound 
From unseen altat's. and awaking 

Through fields around 
(Till heart a,nd ear hath caught the 
essence 

Afar and dim) 
A iiild bird's joy— its effervescence — 

Its morning hymn! 

Over the boundless prairies booming, 

Nor harsh, nor strong 
But heralding angels, coming 

With hope and song — 
With treasures of bud and blossoming: 

New life beginsi 
Sing wild hen, for Sol is loosening 

The winter chainsl 

Sing, singi Coo out thy glad existence, 

Thy wild life wants. 
And taste the kernal (sweet subsis- 
tence) 

In joyous haunts: 
But hush, oh hushi Thy glad voice 
stifle — 

It was too sweetl 
A hand has grasped the cruel rifle. 

And restless feet 

Tread thither! Oh wild birds feeding 

In your ranging run, 
So beautiful and all unheeding 

The sportsman's gun! 
A boy returns from the vanquished 
field 

In unconcern! 
But frightened birds that his rifle 
killed 

To accusers turn. 



10 



Inebriety 

Within a marble-bounded lawn 

And bathed in sunset gleams like gold 

Two young- maidens slowly strolled. 

How restful seemed the promenade, 
For who could push the closed door 
To read a guarded sorrow o'er'? 

All in sweetness like the flowers 
Were they to me -the sisters there 
With sunset glintings through their 
hair. 

Neighbors knew that tottering steps 

Oft crossed the lawn at eventide 

But what eared they to know beside? 

At last vx knew the curse of wine 
Hovered around and over them 
Like snapping flowers from a stemi 

Mother and children wept alone 
-And uncomplaining, lest a stain 
Molest the honored fam'ly name, 

Both held the tired mother's hands 
While the elder, more fragile girl 
Paler grew— more spirtuall 

And more quiet and more resigned 
As dews distilled from angel wings 
Athwart a heart's unmurmurings. 

Ah, the new— the new— Jerusalem! 

A mother kneels beside a bed. 

Her arm beneath a loved one's head. 

A wine lost father totters near; 

She turns/ror)i him, a troubled brow— 

This first-born darling pafshig nowl 

A soul disrobing for its rest; 

Hush, catch the whisper, low and saa, 

'•I'm going, O, O, I'm so glad." 

The Beer Cup 

Over to the grove land, this morning - 
The tall bright trees among 

Where wonderful leaves, in adorning 
Beckoned and lured us along. 

We drove, with spirits enchan^ed 
In the glory that fills. 

Or pervades the air. sweet scented 

Which Autumn distills: 

Spread out before us, what greenery 

In rye field robes to-day. 
What snatches of beauty— of scenery 

In its dreaminess lay: 
There were stars of purple in masses — 

And all fringing the stream: 
O .Jordan, what kingdoms it passes, 

And what pastures outgleam: 



What gardens and housee in- woven 

With creepers and vines: 
See too, how the sunbeam is golden 

In the leaf where it shines! 
And see in the midst of this sweetness 

Seems charmed into life 
A neat little home in its greatnes-sl 

But listen! There's strife! 

Then oh what availeth this beauty 

Around and above 
Where nothing seems wakened to 
duty — 

Nothing wanting but love! 
The lord of the home in his potions 

Is starving his pouI! 
He boweth his head in devotions 

To the maddening bowl! 



Appledore 



Celia Thaxter, the author, died at 
Appledore, Isle of Shoals, aged 58 
years. She was born in 1836 at Ports- 
mouth N. H. She was the daughter of 
Thomas H. Laighton, and at the age of 
16 married her guardian Levi L. Thax- 
ter. Since his death she lived at 
Appledore. 

Most tenderly we search for Appledore 
A little island in the stormy sea; 

A histoi'y's woven on that lonely shore 
With living thoughts and deeds. 

We scan them o'er 
Most tenderly. 

On solid earth the hums of restless care 
In shop and mill, rolled safely 
through the night; 
While on the rocks, climbing a light- 
house stair 
A fearless gii4 for years, sent out 

from there 
A warning light. 

And like a saving light that poet mind 

(Though passed from Earth) in silent 

power 

Is sending still, in written words un- 

dimmed 

A help, like from the lamps she 

nightly trimmed 
At Appledore! 

Illumination 

There came to us a season of mists with 

I'ains — 
A weary continuance of dullness; 
All the frost- bitten herbage over the 

plains 



11 



Sleazy ani wet. Discomfort in full- 

nessl 
But behold the mists are all risen: and 

lo, 
The darkened lowering clouds are 

bi'oken 
And springing to his feet, impatient 

to go 

A chore lad like a prophet has 
spoken 1 

He gazed for a while on the light out- 
sjjread 
And on the beauty that Nature was 
voicing, 
Then lifted his hat to a reverent head 
And went out into sunlight, rejoic- 
ing. 
We had not thought, in his ordinary 
face — 
Only ordinary care disclosing, 
That all of a sudden, we are led to 
trace 
A divinity there, reposing! 
Words are too weak to express (his 
manner said) 
The heights and the depths of this 
feeling: 
O, grand is the spirit, that thus can be 
fed 
With the glory thatGodis revealingi 



Adams 

She had passed, we knew, the youth of 

her days, 
A matron unlearned, uncouth in her 

ways; 
Her hair was white with the burden 

of years — 
Of toil unremitting— worrying cares! 
Her garb not fashioned for beauty and 

grace 
Developeu no charm to her vacant face. 

This was Adams. The sad picture is 

true 
Of a traveler treading a life-time 

through 

On to the end! Oh rudderless, drifting— 
Passing her years with no uplifting — 
No thought of duty— no ennobling aim 
To deepen a Soul's enjoyment in Time! 

We thought her heartless- a lover of 
strife. 

But we were too young to study her 

life — 
Too young to analyze Adams— her law, 
The exterior was the garb we saw. 



But now in review— looking over that 

ground 
Many an excuse for her deeds are 

found. 
There was v/ithal, in surroundings so 

imde 
A gleam of sunshine, of beauty and 

good. 

We remember once, as a neighbor 
passed 

Her low deep window, how he was im- 
pressed 

By the whiteness of her clean ruffled 
cap 

And open Bible spread out on her lap. 

Searching for divinity all alone. 
Lifting her voice in an audible tone 
In the tongue of her people over the sea 
As if Goodness w^ere struggling for 

mastery! 
As if dark clouds she were brushing 

aside 
For a glimpse of God, to none denied! 

That one hour seemed holy, but through 

the week 
Dreadful sometimes were the words 

she would speak ! 
Strange contradictions! Ah little she 

knew. 
But unto that little, perhaps she was 

true. 
Reviewing those weaknesses now, that 

strife 
We study in pity, the threads of her 

life! 

We recall her garden: its pickets were 
set 

In the heart of a meadow with dew 
drops wet, 

And the pathw-ay there from the hard 
road seen 

Was brightly fringed with the mea- 
dow's green; 

And once we rejoiced as she bade us 
wait. 

And guided us up to the garden gate 

And pushed it ajar. O plain to be seen 
Among her own flowers, she was the 

queen! 
What a study! A garden beautiful 
Wrought by her loving care— untiring 

toil. 
Can a soul be base, though weak in 

saintly powers 
That can love and toil for the sake of 

flowers? 



12 



Rural Blessings 

Far out in the country, in a quiet dell 
A family of children were wont to 

dwell; 
They knew most of the birds of every 

name 
That each new year with the mellow 

spring- time came; 
They sang- with them, and hummed 

with the pretty bees, 
And they watched the first blossoms 

crowning- the trees; 
They knew of the tilling of garden and 

farm 

Where the sweetness of sunshine was 
nestling warm; 

When the June cherry on the margin 

of streams 
And scented Gaultheria in pine wood 

scenes. 
And the purple heath fruit in moun- 
tain dew 
Were ready to yield their abundance, 

they knew; 
They knew too when the nuts on the 

hills should stir 
And the tall chestnut should burst its 

prickly bur. 
But all through the lovely springtime's 

blushiug reign 

Andall through tho summer's blooming, 

waving grain 
Their busy hands, grew hard with toil; 

and they 
Paused at the close uf a sultry weary 

day 

To see a guest from the distant city — 

fair — 
So free he seemed from their familiar 

care! 
Could a visitor now. our eyes behold 
Step down from mystic streets inlaid 

with gold 
No greater nor wiser could possibly 

seem 
Than this strange guest, in children's 

simple dream. 
But long stroQg- years have flown, and 

these have told 
How that city with its streets as rich 

as gold 

Is tethered by a tie of needs and 
charms 

To the far off country with its pros- 
perous farms! 

And city and country — the dwellers 
there-of 

O, are bound by a tie, a duty, a love 

Holier and sweeter than mortal can 
give 

And near to this Ruler, the reverent 
live. 



The Old Liberty Bell 

The old Liberty Bell that has been 
in Independence Hall in Philadelphia 
since 1753. has been out of use since 
1835, it having been cracked. When 
sent to the World's Fair at Chicago in 
1893 it was accompanied by four police- 
men whose business it was to take 
charge of it until its return to Phila- 
delphia. 

We passed with the multitude in at the 

gate 
Of the new "White City" that was 
reared of late 
Like a nestling- thing 
Iq Chicago's arms; and we wondering 

went 
To meet what the far-off nations had 
lent 
Useful— interesting. 

We almost closed our eyes, sometimes, 

in paia; 
There seemed too much for the alert, 

but tired brain 
To fully realize; 
People of whom we had only known in 

books 
Now stood full in life, with strangest 

ways and looks 
Before our eyes. 

Yet in the midst of all, it is queer to 

tell 
That we lineered long beside a crack- 
ed old bell 
That rings no more; 
The secret: it clanged the possibility 
Of each and every future state to be 
On Columbia's shore. 

Surely, had its strength held on, there 

would have ruog 
In clarion tones, from its historic 
tongue 
Peal after peal 
A notice of Lincoln's glorious decree 
Which set the American bondmen free! 
A stroke so grand I Old Bell! 

And there's another blight, a scourge, 

a curse 
Dominating- o'er our happy land, and 

worse — 
Over all lands behold! 
O, when can 7^ew Liberty Bells ring and 

ring 

To announce that Alcohol's no longer 
king 

But is righteously controlled! 
1893. 



13 



Among the Native Wild 
Flowers 

Surrounded by fruitful lands — by farms 

well-tilled 
There lays in the sunshine, a wonder- 
ful field- 
Wonderful, since never a ])lowshare's 

been known 
To have turned the sod down-unplow- 

ed — unmownl 
It is a farmer's green pasture, and 

though sweet, 
Was reserved to be trodden by ranging 

feeo; 
And hither we rambled, and knowingly 

met 
This primeval meadow, which 

Heaven's hand hath set 
With native flowers. O, the beauty 

and grace 
Decorating with glory, this lonely 

place: 
In seclusions, they tremblingly stand — 
These old-time flowers of the prairie 

land. 

Herds of kine go trtrnping o'er the 
blossom beds — ] 

Crushed violets lift in tears, poor man- 
gled heads; 

But despite the careless hoof, and 
munching bite, 

Millions yet match the skies, in soften- 
ing lig'ht. 

Then too, the American cowslip's here— 
the Shooting Star 

With pendant, drooping blooms: how 
lovely they are I 

Tender and delicate, and as pure as 

Truth- 
Encircled around, entwined with our 
youth — 

With the days we go back to, into the 
past I 

O, flowers that no hand planted — no 
hand dressed 

None but the mighty Word that called 
them to blow 

Richer than the glory that Solomon 
knew. 

The Little Estray 

Crowds of people have all trooped by, 
Leaving loneliness complete — 

Only this little stray cur, and I 
The veils of night to meetl 



But the clear moonlight in its blessed 
calm 

Was never lovelier; 
And the heavy shadows, where I am 

Creep to the open door. 
A low snatch of song across the mea- 
dows 

From some belated boy 
Grovvs fainter as the traveler goes 

To his employ. 

But not alone: angels my ways attend: 

There's solace in that thought: 
But who'll caro for this, my canine 
friend 

Thus strangely hither brought? 
I look upward with happy trustful mind 

Safe in Higher Power, 
While here at my feef, to-night, I find 

A friend— a little lower — 
Gazing up with watchful earnest eyes, 

Mute pleadings for a crusti 
And can an answered prayer for me 
arise 

If I refuse this trust"? 

Singing at Sunrise 

Slow and sleepily and unrested 

Rising fi'om a cozy bed 
I saw a morning in grandeur vested 

Ere the night was fled; 

The world seemed new in shadowy 
keeping 

With unfamiliar scenes, 
And there was yet an hour for sleeping 

For others— in dreams. 

But seel I saw the daylight breaking 

Forth from the reddening east 
And O, enjoyed the great awakening 
For man, fowl and beast. 

A flock of birds flew from the hedge — 

Settled on a pasture bar: 
Praising songs burst from that humble 
stage, 

And I was auditor. 



May 

Earth's canopy is robed in blue. 
Celestial grandeur pressing through! 
No hint of cloud is on the sky 
And onlj' sunlight sparkles by, 
In cognizance of dewy gems 
That rests on grass as diadems: 
Through bloom and fragrance breaks 

this day — 
This one sweet, peaceful morn In May. 



14 



Her breath where'er 'tis floating- up 
Has dipped into some chaliced cup — 
Has kissed the sweets from burstiug 

buds 
Along the hedges —in the woods, 
And offers now no joy more sweet 
To bathe the brow and lip and cheek — 
An offering in morning's hour 
Of nectar bath from opening flower. 

And angels flying hither — see — 
With blossoms for the budding tree — 
With verdure for the harrowed plain, 
Blessmg all the May time reign, 
Be it flower, or be it field 
With sunlit promise of the yield. 
Be it orchard in flush of bloom 
Or thicket with its wild perfume — 

Be it young life in shifting scene — 
The colt and cilf in pasture green; 
Be it bird with plumage bright, 
Or sober gray that meets the sight. 
Each dowered with a ray divine 
That God permits on earth to shine; 
All lead us on to ui:iderstand 
The movement of a Perfect Hand! 

No pen can write these blessings out 
Strewed here and there, and round 

about; 
Then catch them heart, or soul or eye 
Ere all'the-e fleeting gii^ces die — 
O, catch and hold and live these charms 
The glories of our farmers' farms — 
Shimmering leaves — meadows — grain- 
fields— all 
Ere they are gone beyond recall! 

Let's breathe this essense breath-di- 
vine. 
For thi'ough it all doth goodness shine; 
Enjoy in full this scented air — 
A fragrance that is floating tliere 
Until the soul of song be told, 
Until the spirit be controlled, 
Arising like this wondrous air 
In song, in praise, in prayer. 

A Sonnet for June 

Awake my harp, thy strings attune 

And warble now, the lays of June; 
Call in from cloud and sky and air 

A. touch of wonder roaming there; 
O, seal with pen this loveliness 

Before the fleeting splendors pass; 
Grasp a sense of the waving rye. 

And the barley ere its beauties die! 
O. bird, and song, and fruit and bloom 
Crowded in this month of June! 



All through the vaulted space above 

Outshining, fleecy cloud drifts move 
Over— over, in masses rolled — 

Seem sporting with the great sun's 
gold, 
Basking in light, to us appears 

Until they shed their freight of tears, 
Binding fast in glorious glow 

Tender clasps for the arching bow! 
O, hail beauteous promise, thrown 

Across the lovely skies of June. 

There's the brown bird, and how he 
flies — 

The song thrush with his melodies; 
He clothes, (it seemeth so sometimes) 

That song with sounds of fairer 
climes, 
Wafting along- through pui'ple air, 

Astrange to woe, astrange to care, 
Lulling in peace, the ear, the heart. 

So free from every jar of art 
And fresh with every trill and tune 

TrembliDg in the joys of June. 

Amid the foliage, rich and green. 

Of the cherry, (now our queen) 
And peeping out like bashful eyes 

Within the midst of mysteries 
The juicy red ripe fruitage glows. 

As the mewing catbird knows. 
Dangling on some distant limb 

One half in hope, and half in hymn. 
O, birds take now your luscious boon 

Kipening in the suns of June. 

There too are rare plants in the lanes 

Where first the sweet wild rosebud 
I'eigns 
And where wee blossoms in the path 

Are sweet as any garden hath; 
While maidens in their evening stroll 

Are coming home with baskets full, 
With rapturous tales of golden shades, 

And wondrous blue in grassy glades. 
Of pearly white, and dark maroon 

All in this joyous month of Juno. 

Oh dear great Hand, that made ihem 
all 

And blest the world so beautiful; 
Remove the veil from blinded eyes 

That in the way of Progress lies; 
Teach hearts to see this lovely Light, 

This goodness, so serenely bright, 
And lift the weak all strife above 

Into the fullness of Thy love 
To life that's life. Such glory shown 

As figured throug-h one day in June. 



15 



Spare the Birds 

A beautiful ])igeon (ranked with the 
dove) 

In nest makinof skilled, 
Is busily buildinuf, we believe 

Where we would, she should build. 
Her pinions, are they grey, or are they 
blue, 

Or a mingling- of both — 
With a glimmering of bronze at times 

In the plumaging growth? 
Bird beautiful and time-honored-be- 
loved 

Such as Noah sent forth — 
And later, the carrier from Nansen 

In the drear icy north. 
A sportsman went to a shooting last 
week — • 

A game he surely lovesl 
He carried a cage of imprisoned birds: 

We fear tbey all were doves! 
Their presence in our midst is peace — 
peace — 

A peace to understand: 
And in their innocency, they seem 

So near the Maker's Handl 
What il the needless misery that stains 

Breawu of the bleeding dove, 
Should place a check on the ruthless 
hand 

With a scar for the heart of love? 

My Thrush 

Great wide fields of tasseling maize 

A promise richly sown. 
Are offering to the admiring gaze 

A beauty all their own. 
We watch the graceful stamened top — 

We note the silken hair 
And see (though slowly creeping up 
and up) 

Life for a golden ear. 

All these v/e value, deeply stirred 

Among such gifts of green; 
We see the butterfly, the bee and bird 

Commingling in the scene. 
Peace and trust; love and happiness 

Form canopies around 
A foretaste see of perpetual bliss — 

A step on holy ground. 

But our surroundings change. Oh 

Time! 
Will ours be cloud, or sky? 
We're in the midst of things so pure — 

sublime 



But now we hear a cry! 
Already there is suffering'.'. 

Ah from the willow's bough 
My brown thrush has fallen that came 
to sing 

A happy bird till nowl 

Phis wounded pet a child brings in 

(Some neighbor shot in fun) 
In smothered tears our eyes survey the 
sin 

To him a thoughtless ooel 
What ails the sense that can enjoj' 

Such needless suffering? 
Only a bird that some one's boy 

Brought down with broken wing! 

Along the Buffalo 

In the plea.-:antest part of June 
We sauntered there one afternoon: 
We/o«r sat down upon a rock 
While round us romped our little flock 
Of children, restless, laughing, gay 
In childhood's bright unclouded play: 
O, keen enjoyment— unawares 
With happiness so truly theirs; 
They picked the pebbles from the brook 
And all their hands could hold they 

took — 
Esoied in wat?r. slightly ben*-.. 
The pearly bloom of an arrow-plant — 
Reaching for it with merry cries. 
They snapped it off —a rare surprise. 
Then they strove for the lily stem 
That safely held his cap fmm them 
Quivering like a golden boat, 
Upon the quiet Dam afloat! 
O. young life, tramping o'er the bluff' 
With prattle, song and shout enough. 
And romp, and race! — Our little flock 
Wearily return to us — upon the rock! 

We sat and watched them (thoughtful, 

grave) 
With garnet fragments splash the wave. 
But thought of scenes that interpose — 
(Enacted ere th^ir ."uns arose) 
Between the then and now whose light 
Is fresh again before the sight. 
In retrospect, we two returned 
To where those winter visions burned 
In record strong — indelible 
Upon the tablet of the soul. 
That fierce winter in all its charms 
With months of snow borne in his arms 
Came down on wings of fleecy white 
And drifted to our dell al night: 
It barred without, the great world's din, 
And shut us quiefc inmates, in'. 



16 



But in exchange of thought, our band 
Pound riches rare at its command; 
With Fremont in his aims and hopes 
We climbed with him, the mountain 

slopes 
And on the calm Pacific strand, 
Seemed at times with him to stand, 
Exploring canons— trails— seeing 
What stirred and thrilled a great ex- 
plorer's being. 

But Time wore on -the Volume 

through, 
A thirst awoke for something new: 
Then came postman (fresh interest) 
A long delayed and weary guest. 
What tidings, as the mail-bag whirled 
He brought us from the outside world; 
New thought came in, like fresh repast 
But the winter time grew long, at last I 
We learned to watch for meteors. 
And often heard the storm's guitars; 
And strange what zest a wolf's wild 

bark 
Can throw into the midnight dark; 
Eyes peered through the gathering 

storm 
For a single glimpse of his shaggy 

form 
But the hungry whelp, he went his 

way — 
Was gone before the break of day! 
A.t last, at last, in our cozy home 
We longed for the first dear signs of 

the Spring to come. 

One eve we marked as the sun sank low 
A rosier tint on his pathway glow. 
And higher in heaven, his circle lay 
As he rose to climb the skies next day; 
The blue jay screamed with a shriller 

start 
And the frost let go the streamlet's 

heart; 
The snows uncapped the bluff bank 

brow. 
And dripped to the sleezy pools below * 
From ample roof, and from window 

blinds — 
Dropped melting mass like crystal 

gems: 
O, 'ere we thought, the Spring'ssweet 

spell 
Came creeping down our lovely dell — 
Nursing beneath the sunniest sod 
Hepatica's pale impatient bud- 
That flushed in bloom, a keen surprise 
Amidst the Winter's last goodbys! 
The meadow then, where the icy sheen 



Had lain so long, assumed its green. 
And welcomed soon, with a loving hold 
The cowslips in their robes of gold! 

O, day by day so rapidly — 
There seemed no end of things to see; 
Such new strange plants of every shade 
Starring- afresh the long neglected 

glade; 
And new siraage trees (now known so 

well) 
Hung out their catkins in the dell; 
The wind flowers came, and lost their 

white 
As cypripediums burst in sight; 
While overhead, from bough to bough 
Wild vines kept wearing through and 

through 
Their fleecy threads on the wildwood 

loom 
With all their graceful loups in bh^om. 
Prairies through centuries of sleep 
With undeveloped wealth —treasures 

deep 
Lay spread out around— beautiful — 
Subduing heart— reflning soul! 
And welcome, welcome, all that's good 
Let i^rojress stand where waste once 

stood 
Let wheat fields wave —let corn be 

grown 
Where only tangled grass was known 
And as the years go fleeting past 
Remember this, we've loved them all, 
the first and last. 

Invalid Life 

In from the fields, and from lowlands 

fair — 
In from the fragrance of summery air. 
We sat down one day in a restful chair 
B} an invalid's side! 

Our miods seemed out in the meadows 

green — 
•In the midst of gladness where we had 

been 
And our hearts were full of the things 
we had seen 
And heard and enjoyed! 

Oh, oh (thought we sitting by her side) 
Is every good from that head denied, 
Pressing the pillow from side to side 
In restless dream! 

Never a tread through the ample yard — 
Never a footstep on the grassy sward. 
Only a bed, but firm faith in the Lord — 
A reliance on Him! 



17 



Sad thinking beamed from those lus- 
trous eyes 
In questioning-, and jwudering replies, 
How soothing that tender memories 
Came thronging on. 

"Out through this window (she said) 
afar '•" i ■ ■ ■ 

Over tield^ of grain —and how lovely 

they are 
I see visions of beauty sweet and fair 
As in years agonel" 

Near her stood a vase with fresh sup- 
plies - 

With blossoms sweet— of the deepest 
dyes, 

She saw our glance, and there came to 
her eyes 
A mist of tearsi 

"These are tokens of sympathy and 

hope. 
And each little petal in chaliced cup 
Lifts a message of blessing — comfort up 
Though unawares — 

To dear givers, as well as to me" 
None do a kindness, we're learning to 

see 
But they too drink of that, (that's offer- 
ed free 
As a fountain of light.) 

All those who strive for another's gain- 
To relieve and soften sadcess — pain. 
Grow nearer like Him, whose angels 
reign 
Iq Rest and Right. 

Visiting the Old Home 
Valleys 

Why should the romance of common 

life 
Ordinary in its peace and strife 
Cling to the memory (tempest tossed) 
When much that we'd keep and hold. 

is lost? 
It must be for a purpose, displayed^ 
The changing contrasts of light and 

shadel 
Just now in review, how strange it 

seems 
That one forgotttin, so fills thfse 

dreams, 
One like the oak, whose hist' ry is found 
Rooted figuratively in the ground, 
Plodding through daily toil, o'er and 

o'er 
As she did for years and years before 
In patient rounds. 



After years of wand'ring and sojourn, 
To these valleys we once more return 
To where in happy, though by-gone 
da>s. 

We watched the resinous pine-knots 

blaze 
Upon the Hag-stone hearth. Even then 
Our neighbor Sophie seemed old as 

when 
(That is in her ways) we find her now, 
Deep worn wrinkles on her sun-tanned 

brow. 

We met her as one day we drove 
Upon the highway, down the hills we 

love. 
Smiling as she tugged her grocery load 
Afoot, on the old familiar road: 
The high noon sun with blistering heat 
Burned the red shale earth about her 

feet 
Where she stood. 

Meeting lier thus is what made it seem 
As though twenty years were but a 

dream; 
That we were back again with tears 

and smiles, 
Back in Time as well as back in miles! 

But the gentle hands that here we 

press, 
And eyes suffused with tenderness 
Ignore the cha-nges on brow and hair 
Though the full receipts are written 

there! 
Like halos of beauty round us thrown 
Is the love that we have always known, 
So true, so swcit. unsullied as day 
Which Time in his flight snatched not 

away, 
But left it, sweetest jewel of all 
When he took our youth beyond recall 
And streaked our locks in gray! 

Hallowedmemories, these valleys hold- 
Countless charms to us they yet unfold. 
Here glides Roaring creek, still hem- 
lock-hedged 
Whose channel romantic — granite- 
led ged 
Continues dark in its thick damp shade 
Verging among spruces d'lwn the glade. 
Where a long-time friend in loneliness 
(She unconscious of isolation was) 
Dwelt amidst sublimities divine: 
Her life happier perhaps than mine! 
Let's hold once more in memory's 

power 
The ful'est sweetness of this hour: 
Let the mountain breeze our temples 

lave 
With holy goodness like a wave 
In Summer shower. 



18 



We have trod o'er prairie wastes, and 
stood 

Where all that God has made, seemed 
good; 

Where Nature's lavishing hand be- 
stows 

As fair a flower as ever grows, 

And stretched a surface grand and 
wide, 

And what human needs have been sup- 
plied. 

The summer's golden grain now har- 
vested 

And rustling cornfields promising 
bread I 

Boundless ranges for colts and kine 

Are added gifts from hand Divine: 

Thankless soul arisel Dumb heart pray! 

Behold these blessings on your way. 

So fraught with peace, and free from 
ills 

But forgive us, if we dream of hilk 
Afar away! 



Early Birds 



They're here in our midst— the early 

birds of Spring. 
Hopping about, peeping, chirping and 

warbling; 
Alighting here and there, awake with 

all their might 
And where — we wonder where they'll 

choose a building site. 
The red-breast robin continues a low 

sweet hymn, 
And we think she'll choose for a home, 

some apple limb 
Where moss will be carried, and dead 

grass and leaves. 
And thus her home will be sweet in 

the apple trees: 
Five little white eggs, in time that 

queen will own — 
Or seven at most all spotted with deli- 
cate brown. 

, O, right here by my house, my welcome 

trustful guest, 
Please build, (trilling and singing) thy 

leaf-lined nest; 
Work and whistle among my shrubs — 

all unafraid 
And offer to us free, a Spring morn 

serenade. 
O, makers of glad music — ah little 

preachers too. 
We would that never a woe should 

come to you! 



Free Gifts 

My neighbor has a field of clover 

In thrifty nodding flowers; 
And is it strange, such fragrant sweet- 
ness 

Should be so fully ours? 
Now all the cool lanes in the country 

Rampant are, with their wild show! 
They seem the i*arestof great gardens — 

Blue and golden, and white as snow. 
And all these, as we pass and re-pass, 

Are ours— yours and mine! 
They all are free! God's great handi- 
work — 

With every touch divine! 
O, ours with every sense awake 

To recognize the gift; 
And base the mind that can reject 

A glory thus bequeathed!! 

A Little Lesson 

A cluster of mints in a quiet pasture 
grew 

And it flourished and blossomed, yet 
no one knew 

Until disturbing pressures from a heavy 
iread 

Trampled rudely down, each lowly 
little head! 

Then came a delicate sweetness, and 
no complaint 

Announcing the presence of this fra- 
grant mint. 

Here is a lesson, like a breath from 
Heaven 

Forgive! forgive! that we may be for- 
given. 



19 



In Memoriam: J. H. 

When (.'IcHuls around are grim and gray, 

And our hearts despond, 
How strengthening to see and feel 

Ilhimined rays that sometimes steal 
From "silver linings" that reveal 

Gories yet beyond. 

We knew a worker, true and strong- 
Strong in giving, 

"Who strove to lift, with conscious power 
His fellow creatures kindly o'er 

Chasms of woe, unto the shore 
Of higher liviniil 

But now beyond the things of Earth, 

That one is riseni 
Whate'er the miracle of dying is — 

Wbate'er there be in mysteries, 
A glorious crown is surely his 

In scenes elysianl 

Tears may announce translations 

Of the dear departed: 
But to the realms supremely blest — 

Into peace and everlasting rest 
We know that barque has safely passed 

With the angel-hearted. 



In Memory of J. P. 

(Of sterling, III.) 

One less in the Cnurch militatant 
Missed from an earnest band 

And one more, triumphantly 
Safe in the spirit landl 

A beautiful gathering home 
In close of Time's last stage. 

The pangs of every suffering 
On earth's great pilgrimage 

Thrown aside — the care laid down 

And "all is well — rightl" 
As the passing spirit seeth 

In unclouded Sightl 

It matters not what tired paths 
The faltering footsteps knew, 

The crowning of an upright life 
Has helped the faithful through. 

Under the shade of evergreens 

In sweet undying trust. 
Is laid the precious clay to rest 

Beside its kindred dusti 

Twenty years before, and we 
(Some now with silvered hair) 

Stood here beside his mother^ s grave: 
In silent prayer. 



The wildness of the prairieland 

Was full of nature's grace: 
And then no fence— no line was drawn 

About this burial place; 

The youthful city just beyond 

In its upspringing stride, 
The children of this mother's care 

Had welcomed to its side. 

And like a portion of its life. 
And knitted with its growth 

Is he, who's laid this burden down 
For an immortal youth! 

From different vineyards round about 

Our Father's children come 
And stand in reverent silence near 

A brother's closing tombi 

One less in the militant church 
Missed from an earnest band 

O, one more, triumphant soul 
Safe in the spirit land! 

Tth Mo., 28th, 187«>. 

Naaman. 

A remarkable story in Scripture 

Seemingly illumined in light 
Is clothing a pen with expressions — 

With beautiful visions, to-night. 
'Tis the record of Naaman, a captain 

In the martial hosts of the king — 
One honored greatly with distinctions 

That triumphs in battle may bring. 

But above all these worldly illusions, 

It seems a little Hebrew slave 
Brought unto him a safer glory 

Than all his deeds of valor gavel 
And Bible records extending onward 

As our mental visions rise. 
Unveil to us the solemnity 

Of her tender pitying eyes — 

As she studied so reflectively 

The plague upon her master laid! 
Which all human healing failed to 
reach 

Thus saw the captive Hebrew maid. 
The raiss ion of her Syrian bondage 

Right here transcendantly appears; 
Then in wisdom's unselfish pleadings 

And tenderness, akin to tears 

She speaksl "Would that my lord were 
with the prophet— 

(A suggestive little prayer) 
— With the prophet in Samaria." 

Surely there would be healing there! 
So he came to Elisha — (this captain) 

Came to the prophet, as we read, 
Who taught the afflicted Syrian 

That the true God —is Lord indeed! 



20 



Rut the prophet's mandates were so 
simple — 
— Simple and so easily tried 
That the haughty Naaman d espied 
them 
In his weak and \vorldly pride! 
The world still owns lofty minded peo- 
ple 
Who might aid any Christian call 
Should this come unto them in v/oaders; 
But sometimes such depise the small. 
Yet this leper learned an obedience — 
Crushed out his needless — helpless 
pride — 
Bathed in the waters of the Jordan 
And came forth humbly purified! 

Awaken Farmer! 

Over the fields, the sunbeams are 

streaming — 
In through windows of sleepers beam- 
ing 

With cheering light; 
And on distant plains the fowls are 

screaming 
Awakening toilers sweetly dreaming 

Visions of night. 
O, get up busy farmer, 'tis morning; 
Dew sparkles in matchless adorning 

Over the plain — 
Has fallen in silence without warn- 
ing", 
And even the pastures are turning- 

To deeper g'reen. 

The skies too are bluer and serener 
All the fields are fresher and greener 

Than for many a day; 
A thrush is sing'ing— have you seen 

her? 
Is caroling anear our window 

And floats away! 
There's been a dash through the night 

of showers 
Bathing this beautiful land of ours — 

— This bountiful land; 
Now where the tenderest of sunlight 

pours 
Look out for life in delicate flowers 

On every hand — 

Along moist fence-rows, nodding their 
heads 

And there are young voilets in shelt- 
ered beds 

Asleep in the grass 

Out in the meadowt", where their wild 
life spreads: 

But the children find them in their 
tramps — their treads 

As they leisurely pass. 



They wor 3 bringing to us those fresh 

flowers 
All the way in from hedges and 
bowers — 

Such sweet bouquets! 
Dear children of these neighbors of 

ours 
Going before and after the Showers 

To hedp-es and by-ways! 

They knew how we had liked t .e wild 

bloomers; 
So they picked them, the early con <irs 

On their way to school; 
And now right here in quiet offering's 
This gratefulness lives for the sweeter 
things 

That keep life's pathway full! 
We ask each year, when the flowers 

are new 
We ask dear friends when we'i'e 
thinking of you — 

Whether kind thoughts return 
What is holier in our checkered lives 
Than the help which a loving f^^iend- 
ship gives 

And no deceit is worn"? 



A Child Orator. 

An audience was expectantly awaiting 

The rehearsal of a child 
Who held the hands of loving parents, 
debating, 

Whether he could give delight — • 
Please an audience that night. 

Toward the interesting boy all 
thought seemed drifting 
With a wave of interest; 
He stepped briskly to the rostrum, 
then uplifting 
( W ith a start of deep surprise 
At the crowd) his frightened eyes. 

'Twas a picture worthy of an artist's 
power — 
Of a writer's graceful pen, 
And continues in returning, since that 
hour 
With every outline free, 
An ottering to memoiy. 

He stood like an orator — his fine eyes 

shining 
An unconscious tableaux there; 
Then slowly bowing (a shapely head 
inclining) 
Burst out sobbing in child alarms 
And rushed back to his father's arms. 



21 



Inexperienced children must sometmes 
falter 

In hard tasks before them laid, 
Like to us who daily need a holy altar 

When heavy our burdens grow 
In life's turmoil, sorrow, woe I 

A few tender words of whispered 

comfort spoken 
Brought the boy to his feet again, 
' "If papa will go with me." The 

spell was broken — 
The father drew wisely near — 
His boy knew no more of fear. 

Ah boy what a lesson from thee are we 
learning" 
Studying scenes before usi 
Oh all that's for us, let our hearts be 
discern ingi 
On life paths, with God's outlining, 
May a steadier light be shiningl 

So that we may live, that a Helper 

eternal — 
— Our Father may be near us I 

For lo here is where the light sui)ern- 
al 
la the midst of every throng 
Makes willing workers strong. 



By Their Fruits 

Ye shall know them by their fruits*. 
(St. Matthew— Chapter VII.) 
A thorny, cumbrous plum tree holds 

A part of our garden ground: 
But bye and bye, when bloom unfolds 

Scattering sweetness round. 
What a vision of beauty, in flaunting 
white 
Will entice the bee in his wander- 
ing flight. 

And as the varied seasons come 
And go right onward from the Spring 

There'll come to us the luscious plum 
In sun-tingled coloring. 

O, thorny tree, we have learned to 
know thy fruit 
And ask no fairer one as a substitute . 

Then child of this life, ponder well I 
Profession is only a name: 

The deeds we do are what will tell, 

No matter what we claim: 
Every word and act to the surface 
brought 
Is the ripened fruitage of some latent 
thought. 



Ahasuerus. 

Many years ago, in centuries gone 
There sat upon the Persian throne 

A monarch who in Sacred Writ, is 
known 
As the king, Ahasu-^rus. 

We scan his history, that we may trace 
Some great uplift for the human race; 

He held the power: but the help and 
grace 
Were Vashti's, Esther's, Mordica's! 

The royal palace in its flash of light 

Shone, we're tc^d. with gold and 

silver bright, 
And the pavements there were marble 

(so they write—) 
Were black and i^ed, and blue and 

white. 

But the king sipped with friends from 
cups of gold 

The wine that such in abundance hold, 
And like Esau, his blessea chances sold 

To inebriant appetite! 

Feastings went on, though the Scripture 
hath said 
'•Look not on the wine, when it is 
red' '— 
Orinking went on as the appetite led 
With favored nobles and princes; 

That carousal reached to the seventh 
day, 

(So w^e read) till the wine in its way 
Held over the king, a dominant sway 

Blunting— enslaving his sensesi 

He bade to his presence, Vashti, the 
queen. 

That her wonderful beauty be seen — 
That she a part of his splender, his sheen 

And his riches, might shine. 

But she, with a loftier sense endowed 
And perhaps in mortification bowed 

Refused to face the maudlin crowd 
DrinkingI And drunken with winel 



Amongst The Freedmen. 

Right here in a land of Free Schools— 
These great chances for all in life 
Who strive with an honest, earnest 

endeaver — 
Right here in the midst of all these, 

we cannot 
Comprehend the dearth of real poverty 
Known in the land of oppression 
In the midst of mental darkness I 



22 

Yet right here in the midst of these, 
(Greatest of opportunities) 
Many bow to the habit of drinl:, and 

bind 
TJ emselves in thraldom, low, degrading 
To this master! Thus they ruin and 
destroy 
Their heaven-born chances in life 
And become as fettered slaves! 

Wine and Slavery, twin blights! They 
Mingle in oppression- -in wrong! 
A portrayal reaches us from the South- 
land, 
Fresh from lields where missionaries 

are toiling- 
On for others, that the down-trodden 
may rise 
And the pitifully blinded 
May be aided to see. 

This portrayal is of a lad 
Born low with those arising- nov 
Fr( m Vassalage into Freedom. While 

stepping 
From-the darknessof servitude— slavery 
Into the brilliancy of accorded riphts. 
Many see but dimly at first, 
Grasping the precious boon! 

'Tis as passing from darkened rooms * 
Into a great fullness of light: 
Cm we marvel that unguided brain 

and eye 
So often fail, and that strong men like 

children 
Should also (thus blinded) sometimes 
trample down 
The loveliest buds of promise 
In their first unfolding beauty? 

The parent of this lad saw not 
Nor understood yet, the dawning — 
The sure, glad in-coming of a new Era 
Far their people! But this child — this 

sable boy 
Awakening to his human rights and 
needs 
And strong in faith, saw wistfully 
The ripening harvests ahead! 

Catching the Alpha and Omeg'a 
From the lips of careless comrades — 
The a, b, c, imperfect and uncertain, 
Yet nursing in brain the mystic key of 

lore 
He plants his feet upon the ladder's first 
round! 
What power now can keep him down? 
Neither rags, dirt, nor denials! 



Pleadings may die away in air. 
Petitions for breadth, be refused — 
May though meant in kindness, be re- 
fused, denied 
And refused and denied too long! The 

pleader 
Breaks the trammels his restless eager 
feet 
Bear him on to higher fountains 
And to guardianship more healthful. 

Now upon the Christian portals 
Of the Freedmen's inspiring school 
We find this prophetic touching revela- 
tion; 
The Negro child, dark visaged, gazing 

in wonder 
Upon one pale brow within, whose word 
is law; 
And yet the whole band of children 
Give willing and loving heed. 

He stands irresolute— afraid; 

The courage that inspired, is gone! 
The sympathetic eyes of the one within 
Rest kindly upon this queer apparition 
In dirt and rags! Then in broken ex- 
pression 

Of slave dialect, comical, 

Pitiful, a voice begs to enter! 

Little freed slave! We recognize 
As we gather the whole picture — 
Past and present, the utter desolation 
Settling like clouds of blight on tnorn- 

ing hours; 
Then as tender plant, hurt, trod on, al- 
most killed 
He survives, with an upward bound 
And turns to the light! 



The Teacher's Field. 

Yes, 'tis nearly school-time, children — 

Our restless little band: 
The morning hours are gliding by 

As you around us stand; 
You came with sweetest ofi'erings — 

The sweetest Flora knows, 
With fragrant plants from garden beds; 

From hedge, the pure wild rose. 

Your paths anear the grain fields lay — 

Their wealth by wavelets stirred, 
And voices blending tenderly 

Were all the sounds we heard; 
It was good to hear your shouting 

And happy prattling talk, 
As you, hurrying hither, came 

Running too glad to walk — 



23 



llunning in to meet your teachers 

Whose love you knew you had, 
A' d ev'ry face was beautiful 

In innocency clad. 
Musing! Soon we thought, the reapers 

Moved on by human skill 
Will slash amidst the waving grain 

And clip the golden frill^ 

Will mow in long and graceful sweeps 

This nodding headed wheati 
Teachers have a different tield, 

But every class must reap 1 1 
The school-child's love's a coi-onal 

For all of us to wear; 
And sowing precious seeds of thought 

Kequires a Christian care. 

In closing! We'll turn to Marys 

Crowding about our feec; 
Of the names to woman given 

None more honored — sweet; 
They are as young and tender vines — 

(Needing a guidance, truel) 
— All these Marys, Sarahs, .Annies, 

And strong-willed brothers too — 

— These, little ;«^«— boys of promise 

So separate in aims, 
And differing in intellect 

As well as christened names. 
One is a Benjamin Franklin- - 

And another, a boy 
(As unlike '"Old Hickory" though 

As grief contrasts with joy) 

Is christened for Andrew Jacksonll 

O in life's destinies 
May he disarm urLrighteousness 

With an iron will, like his\ 
While this Benjamin Franklin, with 

No celebrated kite 
To send on message to the clouds 

To catch electric light, 
Has won an honored place right here 

As he with book and slate 
Stepped to his long accustomed seat 

In boyhood's merry gait. 

Every school is rich in records- 
Its lights and shadows known; 

And now around these scattered flocks 
Are strong reflections thrown: 

Let Teachers lend assistance timely 
In hope, and love and prayer. 

Remembering the weakest lambs 
Need most a shepherd's care. 

1861. 



Oak Tree School. 

(In Camden, Delaware) 

We see in reminiscent thought — 

In visions sweet and true 
The Old Oak Tree— the neat brick walk 

That guideth yet into 
The quiet hall, and then up stairs — 

The latch seems in one's hand; 
But pause! There's been a lapse of 
years! 

Ah, can we understand 
That every pupil now within 

To us is new — is strange? 
Then here is where we must begin 

To realize the change! 
'Tis idle to call the sweetly fair, 

In dear and childish grace 
To come to us as though a year 

Had scarcely run its race — 
To look for one familiar smile 

From our own Camden girls -- 
For Susan's pleasant ways the while, 

And Annie's sunny curls — 
For the gay contagious laugh 

Of that once loyal band. 
Though oft it seems in kind behalf 

They yet around us stand. 
We've come to see how sadly deep 

The cruelty appears 
Wakening the ''seven sleepers' "sleep 

Of near two hundred years! 
Three long decades our records make 

Since we were there in youth — 
And wonderful as we awake 

And realize the truth! 
How can we ever bear to meet 

Changes jn the ones we love, 
To find the little racing feet 

\.n grown- up stations move. — 
To find for childhood's careless grace 

(In willful pathways led) 
Here now, a woman's thoughtful face 

And sober ways, instead! 
Oh can we ever understand 

As we these scenes, recall? 
Would almost ask clairvoyant hand 

To trace the ways of all: 
A few, we've learned, like lillies fair 

In the dew and bloom of life 

Were gathered home from scenes of 
care 
And disturbing strife: 

And one, they tell us, wand' ring roams 

In mineral mining, delves: 
Others, (a few) have made them homes 

And joys unto themselves. 
But what of the many— of those 

Of whom we've lost the track? 
The written search light seldom thz-ows, 

Its revelations back ! 



24 

A Vision. 

Watching beside a fevered brow 

On restless pillows tossing, 
I saw(glancing at the stars) how 

The weary nit^ht was passing! 
Slumber had found the suffering one 

Ere Sol was fairly risen, 
And I (the watcher's duties done) 

Saw, was it a vision? 
Trancending every human thought 

With angel presence thrilling, 
And all the space around, about 

The greatest peace was filling! 
All disappointments unextinguished . 

Lost every reach of sadness; 
The dearest hopes could be relinquished 

For this celestial gladness — 
For this benediction — lumination rare 

Draught of joy elysian! 
Behold the mental clouds oft called 
Dispair 

Vanished with the vision! 

Out in the Country. 

We wonder at times what the world is 
doing- — 
We who are staying' rig-ht nere 
Watching plants in garden and truck 

patch growing. 
And the blossoms around us sweetly 
blowing- 
In the Spring- of the year. 

We trace colors on wings (beautiful 
pinions) 
In the families of birds: 
We investigate nests, and bird compan- 
ions 
With healthful interests, in these dom- 
inions 
So unlearned in words. 

Often we pause in the summer's unrests 

.lust to listen to a dove! 
Oh is every home what wisdom invests 
As full of joy as the robin redbreast's 

In unfaltering love? 

Many a life like our own, in this quiet 

Is peacefully passing along- 
Untouched by the noise— the madden- 
ing riot — 
Untouched by the wild tumultuous spirit 

Of the restless throng. 

We love the sweetness of our seclusions 

Amid meadows and lanes, 
Partially free from outside intrusions 
That wreck the mind with heartless 
delusions 

And mental strains! 



A Valentine. 

'Tis near the eve of Valentine's — 

Already Cupid sings; 
In sentimental modest shrines 

We seem to hear the wings 
Of angels flying to and fro 

With messages so sweet, 
We long and love to see them go 

And come as friendships meet. 
They will bear from east to the west — 

From farm to town, forsooth 
What oft before hath been expressed — 

A sweet continued truth! 
And as ye fly, bright angels, oh. 

Upon your joyous way 
Some one will send a billet doux 

With words such only say. 
But scorn a comic libel passed 

For so sweet a flower; 
No bitterness in language dressed 

These dainty notes should mar! 
That is all. Fly on — serenely on 

With tender loving lines, 
And let the breath of truth be borne 

In scattering Valentines. 

Unread Chapters. 

Children are running by from school 

In skip and shout and play; 
And now their noisy nonsense 

We're stopping to survey. 
We too, a worn out schedule hold. 

Each name once more, let's note 
And gather up the threads of life 

As they before us float! 
One name recalls a winsome face, 

How oft we've thought of her; 
Bug now her happy laughing life 

Like school day dream, is o'er! 
She went away in girlhood bloom, 

A vision of surprise 
While sunshine of approaching years 

Seemed sparkling- in her eyes. 
A little way she trod these paths — 

A few short years at best 
Then chose a Kansas pioneer 

And moved with him "out west" 
Whether her life were sad or sweet 

No line or word reveals. 
The most of it to us seems like 

A book with seveti seals] 
Except that from that western land 

Where she a home had sought 
Back to the old ancestral roof 

A motherless babe was brought! 
One broken seal! How short that life 

And yet perhaps 'twas long 
In pages finely written o'er 

In pleasant scenes among. 



25 



Days short and sweet in life may be 

Most i'hai-ininj>\ hapi>y, tnie — 
Hold more than lonj>- and ti'ivial year; 

With nothings runninj>' throuyhl 
So let those chapters be unread 

And all the dreams unknown 
Of this one flower of the Spring 

(.Julled ere fully ])lownI 



The Pearl of Great Price. 

I thought of the fashion prevailing 

In descriptions of gowns — 
The festooning, frilling and trailing, 

And the twinkling with stones. 

But our g'ems are dew-drops on glumes 

Of this blossoming grass: 
While fruits and grains are gladdening 
homes 

— Enhancing loveliness. 

There's the rubicelle, amethyst, pearl 

In each lapidist's show — 
There is sapphire, emerald, beryl 

That scintillate and glow. 

But Time's too precious to be wa sted 
here 

Too long on things like these: 
The world needs workers afar and near 

In its philanthropies — 

Calling into light from ways of sin, 
And helping weak mankindl 

The g'em of value, that I would win 
Is perfect peace of mind. 

The Sarah Levinia. 

On the banks of the peaceful Delaware — 
— Phe beautiful Delaware bay. 

Sat once, a restful company, watching 
The shimmering of waves at play. 

The gentlest billows rolling and tossing 
In their ebb and flow all day. 

Sea g'ulls. silent, came down in the sun- 
shine 
With wings white and gray, spread- 
ing wide. 
And vessels moved onward to the ocean 

On breast of the moving tide. 
So airily and gallantly sailing 
As though touched with human pride . 

A few years before, a new-rigged vessel 
Came glancing and floating along, 

While upon its star-board, or frontal bar 
Plain and unmistakably strong 

Was printed clearly "The Sarah 
Levinia'' 
Untold and unsung in song. 



liut it unfolds a touching history — 
A history enwreathed in charms 

Fur while the .schooner was l)cing 
builded, 
Its owner, through calm and stornu-. 

As became overseeing the workmen 
Carried in his loving arms 

His beautiful and interesting baliy — 

A delicate blue-eyed one, 
And as she came in amidst the builders. 
Screened from harsh breezes and the 
sun, 
They strove each for her meri-y en- 
dearments 
So tenderly begun. 

Now when the vessel had reached its 
finishings 
Then the workmen in one acclaim 
Declared the schooner which they had 
b.iilded 
Should wear the baby's name. 
And in its launching were heard their 
voices 
This kind decree, proclaim. 

So ''The Sarah Levinia" (that vessel) 
In commerce plowed its way. 

While the maiden grew on to woTian- 
hood 
Holding — weilding her sway: 

And these lines on the shrine of aft'ection 
As an offering / lav. 



Virginia. 



We will call this babe Virginia — 

This tiny blue-eyed one, 
A child without a record in 

Her journey just begun I 
We'll name her our Virginia— 

Ours in memory sweet 
Of as lovely, loving a child 

As e'er in life we meet — 

— One whose pure attractive childhood 

So often we recall. 
Ready to dispense a kindness 

With kindly cheer for all: 
Would that there were more axih 
children 

In all our homes astir. 
So this one we'll name Virginia 

In memory of her. 

Yes, of her whose eyes were love — 

A dower of ebon hue, 
Black as a raven's glossy wings! 

This little one's are bluel 
Though we call this child Virginia 

Yet we cannot dower 
These eyes with the same magnetic 

And loving power. 



26 

We are watching with the parents 

In deep solicitude 
All the wonderful unfoldings 

Of a human bud! 
We believe in the expressions 

That mark the human brow, 
And in tones that may be copied 

With an influence now. 

These may return in premiums 

Of joyfulness complete — 
May come laden back to parents 

Refreshing — even sweetl 
O, blessed are the attributes 

Of filial kindness — true I 
These fill children's eyes with beauty 
Whether black or blue! 



A Comet. 

Stay friends: do not sleep so early 

This calm and starry night — 
Cast aside the spell of slumber 

And catch a wondrous sight! 
There's a stranger in the heavens 

With his luminous train 
Following a northward pathway 

Where constellations reign! 

There is Lyra in the zenith 

In unmeasured heights: 
And Pleiades in splendor now 

Hangs out her fretted lights; 
While our own wandering planets 

Revolving in the sky 
Are casting lines of beauty down 

For every watching eye. 

But here's a stranger — new^-com.er. 

A mystic thing outright, 
Sweeping the very firmament 

Upon the wings of night. 
He may travel on and onward 

A thousand years or more 
Ere he returns to Earth's blue skies— 

This wondrous visitor. 

What brings hi)n hither — his missionV 

A marvelous surprise! 
Arresting oh, the attention 

Of our startled eyes! 
Astrologer! does he portend 

Some evil for the Earth? 

Does that stern stranger in the sky 
Approach with breath of wrath? 

Much is learned and much unknown 
Of things right here below; 

Wisdom Supreme will grant the Light 
For all we ought to know! 



Sharon. 

On Sharon's tan-walks we bade to each 

adieu 
(Our dear alumni in an eastern school) 
Planning to meet again in a year or two; 
Our aspirations and dreamings beautiful 
But the wheels of Time are changeable! 

Now hei*e in the closing of the fourth 

decade 
Since parting then at dear old Sharon's 

door, 
With all our varied burdens measured 

^weighed 
Two of us meet for the first, once more — 
Forty years of interval — two score! 

We meet in the west— a surprise to us 
both. 

And wonderfully changed in counte- 
nance; 

Yet Margaret's dark eyes, hold as in 
youth 

A depth of power from inheritance, 

And magnetic in every glance. 

What'er these years have brought to 

us, or taken — 
Wrenched from our lives, or added to, 
Whatever surface friends have long 

forsaken 
Or which throughout have proven true, 
All are settled now, and in review — 

We find the jewels of most enduring- 
worth. 

Of priceless value unto all. 

Are the deeds of kindness, of forbear- 
ance—truth 

A clearer faith in life that's spiritual, 
A help and strength that cannot fail. 

1893 



A Bird in Winter. 

'Twas a jay at noon that caught our 
view. 
Lazily afloat in air: 
Its life seemed linked with the misty 
blue; 
Our interests awoke, afresh, anew 
As we traced its pathway there. 

But what sent it thus abroad to-day — 

This lone bird of graceful wing? 
Was it to foreknow in its instinct way — 
To detect as the early robin may 
A sign of the far-off Spring? 

More likely to fathom sounds of storm 

By our dull ears unheard, 
A kind of signal service, or alarm 
That jjrotects most wisely from threat- 
ened harm 

The little winter bird. 



Years. 

How short the years seem now, and on 
and on, 

In sure processions go — 
Planting about our temples, one by one. 

Threads as white as snow! 

What though we tread more slowly now 
this year — 

Tread leisurely along? 
The push of business life afar and near 

Should hold the young and strong: 

But we have won the right to see ahead, 
Through long experience — 

Gained a higher niche for each silver 
thread 
In paths where we advance; 

And we have won the light to see just 
where 
The poor neglectives stand- 
How they're blinded by the delusive 
glare 
In the Deceiver's hand! 

But here and there in Ufe -above the 
throng 
Are sure to climb the best of all! 
And these years and years as they glide 
along 
Will place the coronal. 



In Time of Drouth. 

Where is the rain cloud 

While nature is suffering with thirst? 
Heavy with dust, the leaves: 
The stunted buds refuse to burst — 
The rain-dove vainly grievesi 

Oh rain-cloud I 
The maple lifts her little palms 
Beseechingly on high: 
No answer from the blue dome 

cdmes — 
No soothing sounds reply. 

Rain, rain cloud. 
The hot dry earth is cracked in seams 
Like fevered parching lips: 
And slower glide the shallow streams 
From which the wild bird sips. 

O, listenl Hearkenll 
There is a blissful, blissful sound 
Splashing the window pane: 
Give thanks faint heart, give thanks 

profound 
For, this the later rain I 



27 

On the Parable of the 
Sower. 

The thought that's cherished will thrive 

and grow 

And blossom into deedsl 
Let us watch the gardens which we sow 
That nothing vile be creeping through 

(Jut choking precious seed I 



Kept in off the Streets. 

It was only a sand-box, broad and long, 
Partly filled with clean white sand, 

So clean that it need not soil or stain 
The whitest little hand. 

A father placed it where his two young 
sons 

Were allowed all day to roam; 
Bringing thus a sort of sea-side beach 

Anear their cozy home. 

And like a bounding step on the Sea- 
shore 

A dream of the sea— the sea, 
Was this delving — tumbling of children 

Happy as childhood could be. 

The passers, passing, must surely have 
paused 
As thoughtful people do, 
To notice this innocent rollicking 
sport 
And unendingly new. 

Whereby these children detained at 
home 
In a sensible beautiful way. 
Were thus kept from th ^ street's rough 
training 
In safe contented play. 



A Ramble. 

We see today through restful eyes- 
Through glad and blessed vision, 

Dissolving views across the skies 
From zenith to horizon. 

We see new prospects everywhere 
Enrolled — enwreathed in splendor: 

And we enjoy our leisure rare 
"Mid woodland blossoms, tender. 

A flower belated in the bud 

Is wondrously expanding, 
Leading to kindoms ever good 

To human undei'standing. 



28 

We're free tO'day from worries laid 

In hurried life's existence, 
And yet we hear the hum of trade 

Through all this pleasant distance. 

Let's leave for once, all care behind 
As though its clamors cease: 

Eajoy to-day, an unburdened mind — 
A true and holy peace, 

The Roadside Daisy. 

It lives where much that's loved, would 
die, 
By culture's hand unled; 

Though crushed by feet that pass it by, 
It lifts a bruised head! 

'Twill rise again— its life resume- 
Put forth its blossoms fair 

'Twill rise, and live, and bud and bloom 
Unknown to tender care. 

Can we not learn from Flora's gifts — 
Her bright neglected plants, 

To find the strength that yet uplifts 
Through all discouragements? 



Chrysanthemum. 

Awake with the sweet and breezy 

Spring 
In her crowning' and her blossoming: 
But this one poor plant's uninteresting! 

And awake too, through summery hours 
But seemingly sleeping, with powers 
Dormant in the season of flowers. 

Now Autumn is Jiere; her caressing 
Is frost over plant life pressing 
A new and wonderful dressing. 

Sweetly scented petals, dewy and tender 
Have wilted — i^erished like tAvigs on 

the fender 
But crysanthemum is rising in splendorl 
Then Spirit, oh soul in a living hunger 
Succumb to discouragements, frowns no 

longer; 
The frail reed may bend, but its life is 

stronger. 

Tread the paths quietly, where duty 

calleth; 
Every cloud may pass, that now appal' 

leth; 
Gather brightness where'er the sun^ 

beam falleth. 

Outlooks may seem hopeless in life- 
time's Spring, 
But oft wonderful is the awakening 
Of sleeping powers, that bitter trials 
bring I 



Charms of Winter in the 
Country. 

Not the dreary coldness 

Not the driving blast. 

But the snowy mantle 

When the night storm's passed - 
The soft and snowy mantle, found 

With drooping twigs all wet. 
And ^11 the heavy plumes around 

With myriad star-gems set. 

Not the cheerless portal, 
Not the tireless hearth, 
But the blessed households 
Rich in hope and mirthi 

Snow Flake, hangup thy crystals -blaze 
Reflected beauty's shown 

In answer to the sun's first rays 

Sent from the golden throne! 

Not the boisterous voices 

Not the ribald tongue, 

But the deep inquirings — 

Minds awake and young 
Asking- concerning silences 
So rapt and deeply still — 
The meaning of the mysteries 
That seem all space to fill! 

Not the noise of cities 

Not the rush on streets 

But the daily interests 

The quiet eoun'^ry keeps; 
And may it keep in usefulness 

The life it cradles here, 
To grow, expand, to help— to bless 

All life within its sphere! 



Tennyson And His Young 
Niece. 

Agnes Grace Weld, niece of the Eng- 
lish poet, gives in a small book an ac- 
count of her uncle's religious belief in 
wbich these words occur: "God is with 
us now on this down as we are walking 
together." I said to nim (writes the 
iiuthor of the booklet) that I thought 
such a near actual presence would be 
awful to most ppople. The uncle in his 
answer said: "I should be sorely afraid 
to live my life without God's presence; 
Taut to feel that he is by my side now 
just as you are, is the joy of my heart." 

"I'd sorely fear to live my life" from 
God apart 
In passing through the scenes of Time! 
To know that God is near "is the joy 
of my heart." 
Tennyson's words are here, sublime, 



For what cou]d this existence without 
a Savior be; 
A maze of wretched solitude — 
Oh like helpless boats adrift, on the 
stormy sea, 
With none to help— no Savior, God! 

But joy, joy oo feel an all-living Pres- 
ence near 
Directing in our doubt, the way! 
And although our lot most humble may 
appear, 
It is grand— great, as we obey'. 



Thankfulness. 

We were glad when the scent of our 

orchard blossoming 
Crept la at our open doors. 
While we strolled around restfully, 

noticing 
The first faint glow of stars. 

And glad we can see from our grounds, 

the coloring 
Of the sunset sky at night, 
When the soft warn air is sweet — all 

things hallowing 
Our hearts in hushed delig'ht. 

And glad we enjoy so fully the surround- 
ings. 

Enlightened by nature's hand. 

In the grace of promising ci'ops abound- 
ing 

For minds that understand. 

Thankful too that clouds of pain have 

vanished 
As chaff from winnowing cast: 
And the weary sleepless watching 

banished — 
Replaced by unburdened rest. 

Thankful for the care of a bountiful Giver 
In whose love our lives flow on. 
Approaching a likeness to the peaceful 

river 
Within a garden bevond. 



Let the Baby Sleep. 

Let the winsome sleeping baby rest 
His little dimpled hands softly pressed 

About his gently heaving breast, 
Innocent as any ro-e unblown. 

He needs deepest love-that parents know 
And the tenderest they can bestow 

Since he will surely grow and grow 
Through Influences around him thrown I 



2') 

Then ere ho attains to man's estate 
Remove glaring pitfalls, small and 
great — 
Remove thera ere it be too late 
Your child of promise to protectl 

Remove the saloons that so entice 
That lead the young to wrong — tovicel 

Beside his cradle, take your choice 
A good man, or one in bar-rooms 
wrecked! 



Sweet Pea Blossoms. 

"I'll name my favorite flowers; 

(We listened to a childish voice) 
Pansles In loveliest colors 

Are always my choice." 

"Not mine (the voice of another) 
Mine is the fresh bud of a rose." 

Thus archly, sister and brother, 
Each, a favorite chose. 

Further on, a shaded border 
Evolved swe-et clambering peas, 

Dispensing nectareous odor 
Stirred by the wings of the bees. 

Perfection, though terrestrial 
Seemed In all the petals born, 

Emblems of types celestial 
In humble glory worn. 

And here the etherial essence 
With its elevating powers 

Led the children to a presence 
C>f love for all the flowers. 



Robin. 

Listen! 'tis a I'obin s power 
In this blessed morning hour. 

Calling to her own! 
Yet others than her tender brood 
Are listening with heart subdued — 

Others than her own- 
Since human ear hath caught the sound 
Floating on the air around — 

Melody of love! 
And we join in, and sou's uprise 
Mingling reverent prayer with praise 
To Infinite Love! 

Interpret true, these tender songs 
Where grace ineffable belongs, 

And enjoyment— joy: 
Only a little bird, yet hear—! 
Gladness floats to the Eternal Ear — 

Enraptured joy. 



30 

The nest may be on an apple limb 
But onwai'd floats a warbler's hymn, 

And heed farmer, heed. 

Harm not the bird, nor mud-lined nest 

For she's our friend * be this impressed, 

The farmer's friend indeed. 

* By actual observation it is learned 
that a robin ia leeding her youog con- 
sumed in one week 1000 cut worms. 



The Flicker. 

(Qolden=winged woodpecker.) 

Written for the children learning about birds, 

What sort of a carpenter is there 
Hammering-, hammering" away 

Just on the outside of our windows 
And just at the peep of day? 

He's up in the eaves of the bouse: 
What sort o: a hammer has he? 

Get up children, awaken, awaken- 
Quietly— Let's see. 

Its the flicker: we've caught him: 

He never has driven a nail! 
A funny little carpenter, surely, 

And tha^t hammer's his bill. 



Phoebe. 

^'Twitter, twitter" "Tis five o'clock. 
Do you hear the Ljatinee? 
And the chorus grows much sweeter 
"Phoabe, peewee, peewee." 

Aslant from the sum there creeps- a goldr 

en beam: 
And the fluttering of leaflets now is seen 
Where this vision of beauty is quiver- 
ing in, 

''Phoebe, peewee, peewee." 

That little dream of air that scarcely 

blew 
Has touched a bursting rose-bud washed 

in dew: 
O loveliest morn! Is Time born anew? 
"Phoebe, peewee." 

Thus purely and sweetly dawns this day, 

that stilus 
The sleepy little birds, (my choristers) 
With a benediction unto her that hears, 
"Phoebe, peewee." 



The Blue Jay. 

Our great blue jay, with an easy swing 
Floats out from the cedar's covering; 
Through the orchard and about the yard 
There flies no brighter -more noticed 
bird : 
Such a sweeping of blue as he flies — 
Such a tint of summery skies. 

But his music I That is coarse we own- 
No tenderness in his garrulous tone 
Not one plain little warbler, we note 
Would change its voice for a blue jay's 
coat. 
Its song is a bird's sweet dower, 
Like scent is die charm of a flower. 

Instruction is here for us who would 

learn 
These lessons of value to discern — 
To understand beyond first siglit 
The revelations of a latent light, 
For beauty may not always grace 
The dearest and the sweetest face, 



Index. 

Around the Evening Lamp '.i 

A Dri ve i o Town o 

A Trilob;te n 

Autumn Leaves 7 

A Winter Storm '.t 

Appledore 10 

Adams 11 

Among the Native Wild Flowers 13 

A S.)ni)et for .lune 14 

Along the Buffalo 15 

A Litt'e Lesson 18 

Awaken, Farmer 20 

A Chi d Oraior 20 

Ahasuerus 21 

Amongst the Freed men 21 

A Vision .... 24 

A V alentine 24 

A Comet 26 

A Bird i.i Winter 2(5 

A Liamble 27 

Benevolence ^ 

By Their Fruits 21 

(..'hrysanthemura 28 

(. harms of Winter in the Country 28 

Echoes f i"om Kansas 2 

Early Birds 18 

Friends' Meeting House 7 

Free Gifts 18 

Father Frontispiece 

Giving Thanlis 8 

In Autumn 7 

Illumination 10 

Inebriety 10 

Invalid Life 1<> 

In Memoriam: J . H 19 

In Memory of J. P 19 

In Time of Drouth 27 

Jane Grey Swisshelm 1 

Kept in off the Streets 27 

Let the Baby Sleep 29 

Mav ' 1-5 

My Thrush 15 

Mother Frontispiece 

Naaman 19 

Oak Tree School 23 

Out in the Country 24 

On the Parable of the Sower 27 

Pastoral 4 

Phoebe 30 

Rural rflessings 12 

Robin 29 

Spring 1 

Summer 1 

Summer Evening Thoughts 2 

Singing at Sunrise '3 

Spare the Birds 15 

Sharon 26 

Sweet Pea Blossoms 29 

The Snow Finch 8 

The Closing Year 8 

The Wild Hen 9 

The Beer Cup 10 

The Old Libertv Bell 12 

The Little Estrav 13 

The Teacher's Field 22 

The Pearl of Great Price 2o 

The Sarah Levinia 2o 

The Roadside Daisy 28 

Tennvson and his Young Niece -8 

Thankfulness -9 

The Flicker. ^0 

The Blue Jay ^0 

Unread Chapters -^ 

Visiting the Old Home Va'leys 1] 

Virginia -"^ 

Wild A^iolets .;+ 

Years - '